Stay Awake With Me
by realitysickness
Summary: Things have changed in Tree Hill, and that means more drama than ever. Old feelings will be rekindled, new hearts broken, and friendships will blossom. Each character has a story to tell from his or her perspective. Brucas, Naley, & a bit of LP & Brulian.
1. Gloomy Weather

**A/N**: This story is ultimately a Brucas story about how their relationship grows. However, that doesn't mean BL will end up together. There will be Leyton in my story as well as Naley and Brulian. Pretty much everything happened in Seasons 1-5 including some of Season 6. There will be no Sam in my story because I don't enjoy her character. Julian may or may not be a bit OOC, it's up to you to decide.

I am a die-hard Brucas fan, but I still want to keep this story realistic. So, there will be LP in it too.

Each chapter will be in one of three character's perspective: Lucas, Peyton, and Brooke. However, later on there might be some chapters that are in Naley's perspective.

In His Eyes refers to Lucas's POV; In the Fiancé's Eyes refers to Peyton's POV; In the Best Friend's Eyes refers to Brooke's POV.

I hope everyone will enjoy my story. Since Mark is currently making OTH as uninteresting as possible (and including hardly any BL scenes even as platonic friends), I feel that I have to write this to make up for his storylines. I love getting reviews, so you know what to do.

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**In His Eyes**:

I'm Lucas Scott, fiancé of Peyton Sawyer. That's all I am now.

Before, I used to be the best friend of Haley James Scott, but I haven't spoken to her in what seems like ages. Before, I was "Uncle Luke" to my godson, Jamie. But that was _before_ I started breaking promises of buying the little boy ice cream and canceling our basketball play-time in the park. Before, you could call me the half-brother of Nathan Scott, and though technically by blood I still am, I haven't acted like one in quite awhile. Before, I considered myself a good friend, in fact a great friend, to _the _Brooke Davis. But now, honestly, I don't even know what's going on in her life anymore.

Let's also add to the list of failed relationships the fact that I haven't called my mother in more than a few months. Usually, she's the one who calls, but I guess even she's given up on my ability to stay in touch properly. I couldn't even send my sister, Lily, a birthday present…and no, it wasn't because I forgot, but more because I couldn't choose one. Hell, I don't know any of her likes or dislikes, and I'm not going to just start pretending like I do. So as usual, I flaked out and simply sent her my regards.

I guess the thousands of miles between me and my mother, Lily, and Andy is partly the reason to blame for why I have lost pretty much all contact with them. I mean they're half-way around the world in New Zealand, while I'm sitting in Tree Hill. But still, I could have tried harder…with all of them, especially the ones who live right here.

Don't get me wrong though, I love Peyton. I really do. I don't blame her one bit for my faults. At this time, she's probably the only person who can hold all of me together and keep me from cracking under pressure. I feel safe with her. And I don't want to ruin that.

I do my best to hold onto her, too, because as of now she is the only constant in my life. Sure, our history is messy. The way we came together includes some selfish words and actions mixed in. The both of us have had many low points and letdowns. I'd like to think we overcame it, but subconsciously, I know the plain truth. All we did was ignore our past. It might catch up with us later and come to bite our asses, but for now I'm not screwing up another relationship.

I'm also going to be a father soon. Peyton's pregnant, and nothing makes me happier than accompanying Peyton on those doctor visits to check our unborn baby's ultrasound and listen to the heartbeat of that child we created together. I plan on never making that baby feel the absence of a father. I'm never going to let the baby feel the pain of not having a father around. I will not be Dan Scott.

---x---

"Luke, you're squinting again," Peyton says suddenly interrupting me from all my thoughts. "What's going on?" she asks as she sits down next to me on the couch.

"Nothing," I smile. Peyton eyes me suspiciously, but instead of nagging me on in answering her question, she becomes silent.

"So how's our wonderful baby doing?" I ask attempting to make conversation. Anything would be better than leaving me alone with my thoughts. "I hope the morning sickness isn't tiring you out too bad, is it?"

I watch Peyton shuffle in her spot uncomfortably. "Oh, the morning sickness is alright," she says nervously. Peyton pauses before continuing to say, "You get used to it."

I can sense something is wrong just by looking at the anxiety written plainly across her face as well as by observing the way her body fidgets. But, I am just too tired to get to the bottom of it right now. Instead, I offer her a way of escape because I know she needs it as much as I do. "Hey Peyt, I was wondering," I start off.

"Yes?" she replies. Her golden curls look lusterless today. And god, do I want to hug her and tell her it's all going to be okay. But, something stops me from doing so.

"Well, we haven't been to the Rivercourt in such a long time. And I was thinking maybe we should go. Just the two of us," I continue.

A small smile lights up her face. "Sure, why not?"

--x--

"You sure know how to pick a day for walking," Peyton jokes. "I mean it's freezing outside," she exaggerates.

"Well, someone should have thought to bring a jacket," I play along. Though, I do agree with her a bit. The wind is blowing harder than usual, and the sky does look so much grayer.

"Excuse me, but I thought my fiancé would be a gentleman in offering to let me borrow _his_ jacket," Peyton teases.

"What fiancé?" I ask as I take off my jacket and cover her with it anyways.

She leans in closer to kiss me softly on the cheek. I wrap my arms around her as she whispers into my ear, "This fiancé."

We carry on strolling down the quiet roads in Tree Hill, until we reach the outskirts of the Rivercourt. It certainly hasn't changed much. The last time I remember being here was the night before I decided to propose to Peyton. She had painted the lyrics "_I will always love you"_ from Lovesong by The Cure onto the pavement. I haven't been there since, and honestly I can't remember why. This place used to be my second home practically.

As if thinking the same thing I was, Peyton tells me, "You know, I'll always love you right?"

"I know," I answer because it's right. Still, it's too bad for the rain. It probably washed off all evidence of Peyton's artwork just like it washed off all our names we signed there back at the end of high school.

As we approach closer to the Rivercourt, I hear distant laughter and the sound of talking coming closer. I instantly make out Jamie's small voice yelling, "That's not fair Aunt Brooke! Daddy helped you." Peyton and I stop in our tracks while our gaze shifts to the scene before us. Brooke and Jamie were apparently having a competition in basketball, and Nathan stepped in to score a few points for Brooke. It amazed me that the girl could even walk in her stilettos without falling much less dribble a ball in them. Meanwhile, Haley cheers for Jamie at the same time as cleaning up the half-finished food into the picnic basket alongside Deb. Mouth and Millicent were too busy making out to notice anything that was going on, and Skills was inappropriately making glances towards Deb's rear end.

They all looked so content. It irritated me. I know it's selfish of me to say that, but it's true.

I really didn't want to be here anymore. Fortunately, we were still far enough for them not to have seen us. Nathan suddenly grabbed Haley by the waist and led her onto the court to help her in shooting a basket. Jamie looked mad that nobody was helping him and stomped off to talk to Skills. Haley burst into laughter, and Brooke chuckled her way back to Jamie. However, Jamie was still giving her the silent treatment, so Brooke decided to tickle him. Next, Nathan shouts at Mouth, "Get a room, man," which immediately ends the lip-lock of the couple. They were all caught up in their own activities that it seemed none of them missed our presence at all.

I felt Peyton's fingers reach out for my hand and she held it there quietly.

I instantly regretted bringing her here to this place. Watching everybody overcame me with both guilt and anger. Peyton could sense my hand quivering in hers. She turns to me and says, "Maybe we should go back. It's getting cold." Then she mumbles, "And I don't feel like I belong here."

That's exactly as I was feeling. It felt wrong to be here, eavesdropping on their happiness. We were the outsiders looking in.

"You're right, let's leave." Just as we were ready to go, an unexpected "acquaintance" stands in front of us with his arms folded across his chest as if there was nothing in this world that would make him move.

"Ah, would you like it that, it's Mr. Scott with his soon-to-be Mrs. Scott. Why won't you join your friends today? I mean Lucas Scott is the man who was loved so much by his friends. He had such a good heart to offer. Your book says it all. And Peyton weren't you best friends with Miss Brooke Davis? Funny, how no matter what, literature is always a twisted version of reality. Don't you agree?" he taunts.

I wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. Adding a punch or two, wouldn't be too bad also.

"Knock it off, Julian," Peyton hisses.

"What? I was merely asking a question. No harm in that right," he smiles smugly.

"Stop messing with Lucas. He's got enough worries as it is. And he doesn't need you bugging him outside the movie set either," Peyton shoots back clearly pissed.

"Peyton, I do think Lucas can speak for himself. Isn't that right, Lucas?"

This guy always knew the words to make anyone mad. Obviously, it seems to be working on me. "Look Julian, Peyton and I are just on our way to leave," I reply as calmly as I could. I wasn't in a fighting mood today.

"You know all you got to do is talk to them. I'm pretty sure they'll allow you guys back into their lives because they probably miss you as much as you do," Julian responds softly before walking away.

It was one thing knowing that you are wrong. It was another to be given advice that you know is genuinely correct by someone you don't even get along with half the time.

Peyton was right; the weather _is_ quite gloomy today.


	2. Give Me Tragedy

**A/N:** This is Peyton's POV. Thank you guys for all the reviews. Keep them coming, they make my day.

I'm sorry, there's no Brooke in this chapter. But next chapter will be Brooke's POV and there will be Brulian in it, too. You guys will have to keep up with Leyton because it's gonna be a little while longer until the Brucas interaction will happen. But don't worry you guys will defiantely love the BL that will come up. So please be patient and bear with me.

Ya'll have to wait for the Naley parts for a little bit longer as well. Don't hate me, please.

Also, I'm sorry for not updating so quickly. I try my best, and hopefully I should have the next chapter done by the end of spring break. I'll shut up rambling, enjoy everyone.

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**In the Fiancé's Eyes**:

I'm Peyton Sawyer—soon-to-be-Scott.

This year, I got everything I wanted and everything I wished for. But in a way, I'm losing so much more than that. I really shouldn't complain at all, yet the tears still fall.

I thought that when Lucas would enter my life, it would all make sense again. My life would have meaning and direction, once more. So I fought for him with every fiber of my being because somewhere along the road, I couldn't imagine a future without him. I needed him so that I could move on with myself, my career, my family…otherwise, I'd be so lost.

Now, I've got my man. This time I said 'yes' just like in my dreams. And, I'm still not satisfied.

I'm not saying that Lucas isn't the one for me because I know he is. He was worth the struggle, the tears, and the sweat. He has to be. But now what? Where do I go from here?

I always wanted to be a person that both of my mothers would be proud to call their daughter. I wanted to be that person with strength and courage to overcome all those obstacles that came my way. But, it's just hard. Sometimes, you screw up and it's just so hard to get back on track.

Like, with Brooke. I don't know how it happened; all I know is that I haven't talked to her in a long time. I just want to hear her voice say that it's all going to be okay and that we'll get through this because we always do. I want to show her that I still care, and I truly hope she does too. And yet, I can't work up the nerve to call her up and tell her how much I need her right now—I don't know why, but I can't. For some reason, it isn't as easy as that.

I used to draw to keep my emotions in tact. Everything was much simpler on paper. Art was a passion of mines from the very beginning. Whenever I picked up that pencil to sketch, all my thoughts would flow onto the canvas, taking form of familiar faces and places. I poured my soul into my work, allowing myself to express the beauty of art. It was therapy for me. I don't know why I stopped.

Maybe it was to focus on my music. Music brought me closer to so many people I have loved: Lucas, Ellie, Haley, and Jake. Even my birth dad and I were musically connected. The harmony, the melody, the rhythm, and the lyrics all together intertwined are just so contagious one can't help to immerse themselves completely into a song. I always thought I'd make it big with music. I'd reach out and make a difference to the world, bringing comfort through music. Instead, I feel like I haven't accomplished anything I set out to do.

--x--

Another day at Red Bedroom Records. Nothing gets done here. So really, the name is indeed quite fitting—I mean, you can't get anything done in bed…well, besides, mind-blowing sex. But, that's just it.

…Well, maybe the place needs some inspiration.

"Mia, how's that other song coming along?" I ask, secretly praying that her answer will be 'Yes Peyton, everything's going peachy keen.'

"Um, actually, it's not really going anywhere," Mia replies, her eyes not meeting mines.

"Please tell me, you've been working on the demos I asked you to do," I say, despite already knowing what her answer will be.

"Peyton, I've got a lot going on, okay," she claims.

"Really? And you don't think _I_ have got a lot going on? I'm sorry, but this is a job, Mia. You can't slack off and expect to be rewarded for it."

Mia rolls her eyes at me and then retorts, "Seriously, Peyton, I have done everything you've asked me to do. And I've got a couple of ideas, but…"

"A couple of ideas?" I cut in to exclaim. I can feel the anger in my voice rise as I continue to shout, "I haven't even seen you honestly work in the studio. The label isn't asking for a couple of ideas. They're asking for Mia's next new record!"

"I'm trying my best here. But, Peyton, if you cared, you could at least tell them to be a little more patient. I'm busting my ass to get everything _you_ want done. The least you can do is ask for a bit more time," she spits out icily.

"What do you think I've been doing, then? Sitting here, sipping a cup of coffee everyday? I've been postponing your deadline for months already. Why? Because I had faith in you. But, now you're just being ungrateful." I find myself practically yelling at the top of my lungs. There goes that outburst.

"Ungrateful? Now is this Peyton talking or her out-of-wack pregnancy hormones?" Mia snaps.

"Both!" I yelled before pausing to start again. "Listen Mia, you can't pull a Lindsey Lohan on me by showing up late to work, not completing most of it, and then to top it off giving me your rude attitude. Don't let this fame get to your head."

"I don't know who I should be more pissed at right now, you or the label," Mia states bluntly.

I can't help it; I immediately break down into hysterics. I can't take any of it anymore. Mia's obnoxious behavior and the label's constant pressuring is something I cannot handle today. This completely catches Mia off-guard. Her eyes show her sudden confusion. She has no idea on what to do or say.

"Peyt—Peyton, are you…um alright?" her voice barely above a whisper, with her eyes wide in horror.

I breathe in deeply for a few seconds. "It's okay. Like you said, it must be my hormones getting to me." I sniffle, attempting to show her a half-smile.

"Are you sure? Should I call, Lucas or something?" she implores, the panic still audible in her voice.

"No, he's probably busy with the movie and what not," I answer nonchalantly.

A moment of silence passes over the two of us. I calm down quite a bit, while my previous fit of anger subsides. The silence is somewhat refreshing and cools the both of us down. I begin to feel guilty for screaming at Mia like that, but she apologizes before I get the chance to start.

"I'm really sorry, Peyton. You're right, I was being a bitch. I would have fired myself, if I were you," she laughs dryly.

"No, Mia, it's okay. We all have our off-days. And sometimes we just explode on each other even though we don't mean it."

"I know, it's just that I'm really stuck. I can't seem to write about anything," she sighs.

"Oh, come on, I bet you have tons of that teenage angst, waiting to be used in a song. At least, I sure did back in the day," I joke, relieved that the tension is now gone.

Mia laughs, "Yeah, I don't know why nothing's coming to me. I guess I'm lacking inspiration."

"Hey, why don't we call it a day?"

"But, we haven't gotten anything done yet," Mia reminds me.

"That's true. However, I'm really tired myself, today. But don't think you're getting away that easily. I want you to search for your inspiration. Get out there, go to some café, walk around, just let it come to you. You'll be surprised at what you can find," I advise her.

"Thanks, Peyton, for putting up with me."

"It's my pleasure, really. Now you get out there and write some kick-ass songs, you hear."

"You got it!" She winks at me, before turning out to head the door.

--x--

Back at home in the comfort of my bathroom (or technically, Luke's bathroom), I glance in the mirror, noticing my swollen eyes are still red and puffy due to my recent meltdown. Thank god, I'm not going out today.

I'm feeling overwhelmed with every thing that's going on in my life. All of it is just so exhausting. The pain in my lower abdomen doesn't make anything better, either.

The phone's persistent ringing shakes me from my thoughts, and I quickly rush to answer it.

"Hello, this is Peyton Sawyer speaking."

"_Ah, Ms. Sawyer, how are you doing?_"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"_This is Dr. Thompson, and I have your results from last week's appointment._"

"Oh right, yes of course," I can hear my voice crack with anxiety.

"_Ms. Sawyer, I'm sorry to say but your results reveal some unfortunate circumstances..._"

I let out a small gasp I had no idea I had been keeping in for that long.

The idea of being a mother absolutely terrifies me. Nevertheless, it is still one of my greatest desires. I want to be able to smile at my own child who would have Lucas's squint and my chickeny legs. And if having that is tragic, then give me tragedy. Because I wouldn't give it back for the world.

I couldn't give up my baby. It's not possible, I cried.

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**A/N:** Excited? I hope I made Peyton's POV somewhat interesting. Let me know what you guys think.


	3. The Façade

**A/N:** This is Brooke's POV. It's longer than the others. I'm still not satisfied, but I realized I probably never will be. So here it is. There's some Brulian in it too. I hope I did Brooke Davis justice. Okay, so let me clear up the timeline for you a little bit, even though it's not too much of a big part of my story.

It's been almost a year since Brooke & Peyton have moved back to Tree Hill. The Angie situation happened in January. Lucas & Peyton got engaged in the beginning of February. By March, everyone lost touch with Leyton. August was Brooke's attack. In the middle of September was the last time Brooke talked to Peyton--Peyt told her she was pregnant and wanted Brooke to be the godmother. Julian entered the scene in the middle of August--that's when the movie production started. But Brooke & Julian have been dating for three weeks or so now. Right now, it's the beginning of October.

Also, Sam is nonexistant in this story.

**-----------------------------------------------------------------**

**In the Best Friend's Eyes**:

I'm Brooke. Yeah, just Brooke Davis. And that's good enough for me…most of the times.

_Do you miss being young? I am young. No, I mean acting young—not being the boss of this huge corporation, but being Brooke Davis, twenty-one year old girl. Sure, I miss it._

And I do miss it. I'm different from my high school days. I miss being carefree, running around with little responsibility. Being spontaneous, bursting with energy, and actually _having fun_. You know, just enjoying life, and most of all, being happy. Five years ago, it all seemed so clear. Conquer the world. Make a name for yourself. Follow your dreams. But somewhere along the way I got lost in it all.

There's one thing which hasn't changed since then and that's the façade I use to cover up. The smile I plaster on to hide my sorrows. I don't want to be seen vulnerable. For that reason, I put up this false front to conceal my insecurities.

_Are you happy?_ I can't count how many times reporters and paparazzi alike have asked me this question, and each time I stumble to find an answer. I've never actually answered it truthfully in New York. What can you say, when you realize having fame and fortune isn't everything you thought it would be? What's left to say when you finally realize that the dream you've been going after for so long doesn't make you feel complete?

Sometimes, I still go back to New York every once in a while for business ventures. In reality, it's not that amazing as people take it for: Antidepressants. Stress. Late nights. Chinese take out. Victoria Davis. That pretty much sums up my past four years in New York. Even the glamour gets old, once the actual workload begins to burden you. I was busy—actually that's more of an understatement—I was completely sleep-deprived. My schedule was booked with different appointments, deadlines, publicity stunts, etc. And the sad thing is, despite my fast-paced lifestyle, I was lonely in New York, more than I led on.

Yet, I can't say I regret any of it. Clothes over Bros now compares with the likes of Louis Vuitton, Prada, and Gucci. It's still strange to find random people on the streets of Tree Hill recognize your face, calling you out to commend on your latest new line of clothing. I've always loved fashion. It might seem that to care this much about clothes shows shallowness in a person's character, but I have to disagree. When choosing clothes, we put a little bit of ourselves into the thought process. Our individuality shines through. Selecting colors, unique styles, and textile patterns which all come together into one specific design—all of that is about creativity.

I feel like I've been through hell and back this past year. I lost my company to my bitch of a mother. She had always been one of those overly-ambitious women—someone who would trade in their very own daughter for fame and fortune. My hard-earned achievements and accomplishments died with the loss of my company. Then right after, the attack happened. For weeks, I showed no emotion at all. I didn't cry or scream or yell. I was numb. I let the pain bottle up inside, only letting it out in the middle of the night, when the images of that moment of sexual abuse haunt me over and over again. But I grew stronger in both cases.

I came back home for love. I'm used to being guarded. I just can't risk heartbreak again. It's too much. But at the same time, I'm tired of closing my heart to the possibility of love. Angie made me realize how much I want to start a family of my own. I wish to be a mother of a child one day. I want to give my baby all the affection and adoration only a mother has for her child. I could give up everything to have that same sense of joy I had with Angie around.

Coming back home filled a little bit of the void in my heart which work couldn't mend. I'm in the process of recovery. Repairing myself one step at a time. I'm done with being the broken girl. I feel blessed to be surrounded by all my friends. I owe each one of them so much. They all helped me get back on my feet and start my boutique in Tree Hill. Although, it's not the same without Peyton and Lucas. The only time in the past few months I _really talked_ to my best friend was when she told me I would be the godmother of her baby. Don't even mention Lucas, I don't even know what happened to him. I know I should expect this…they're both busy starting their new life together. But, it still hurts just the same.

---x---

I enter my car, feeling satisfied that I was done with the errands I had set out to finish today. As I begin to back out of the parking lot, I shriek at the sight of a girl who pops up naked in my backseat.

I try to regain my cool and think of a quick response, "Sorry to disappoint, but I think you might have the wrong car. I'm really not into that."

"No, I'm pretty sure I got the right car. You are Brooke Davis, aren't you? I was just making sure I got your signature move right," she smirks.

I could ask her a million questions right now—like how the hell she got into my car. But then, I think better of it because really if a naked Owen got in once, it's no surprise she did, too.

Instead, I press on to ask her, "Who the hell are you?" But before I give her the chance to respond, I continue, "Do you have any idea how awkward this situation is right now? I've got a naked girl in the backseat of my car for crying out loud!"

"I'm Missy. I play you in the movie," the young brunette with raven hair quickly interjects.

"Oh. My. God! So you're me? Well, I can tell they did a great job in casting, I—I can't believe it. You are—you're me!" I squeal. "Wow, I'm actually feeling some butterflies in my stomach right now. I bet this is how people must feel when they meet me for the first time," I say more to myself. Turning my attention back to her I add, "I want my part to be the best in the movie, okay? So you ask me anything you want."

Missy was just as excited and exclaimed, "I know, I'm shocked too! I mean I'm playing _the_ one and only Brooke Davis! I haven't read The Unkindness of Ravens yet, but I plan on finishing it by the end of this week. I really wanted to play you because we are so much alike. I was a cheerleader back in high school, which really wasn't that long ago. And well, school wasn't my best area, but I was totally good with the boys if you know what I mean."

Missy talks so fast that she doesn't let me get a word in, and instead carries on rambling, "Anywho, I've got loads of questions to ask you. How many guys did you sleep with? I mean, I know it's kind of personal, but I need a rough idea on what you were like. Wait, did protection work for you a 100% of the time? Because it sure didn't work for me, I had like two pregnancy scares. I also need to get the wardrobe approved by you. I admit I've got quite a few sexy outfits that are you know—Brookish…ooh, that reminds me, what kind of lingerie did you wear?..."

"Shut up!" I yell. I watch Missy as she leans so far back in her attempt to further the distance between us. I bet she wasn't expecting to see this side of Brooke Davis. "Listen Missy, I wasn't all about sex in high school! I don't even know where you got the idea from! Sure, I had an effect on guys and used it to my advantage. That doesn't mean my life revolved around sex. I did a whole lot more than that. In fact, I'm actually surprised I even had time for sex back then!"

Missy looks at me sheepishly and replies, "I'm sorry, look, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just following the breakdown." She hands me a sheet of paper.

I angrily snatch the paper from her hands, while I read the words typed on it. _Brooke Davis—gorgeous brunette with an amazing energy and smile._ I laugh._ Her three favorite things: sex, sex, and sex._ Re-reading those last words, I can feel my heart sink. I was nothing more than a pretty face; no one to be taken seriously.

"Um…Brooke, are you…um okay?" Missy stutters as she sees my frown.

I immediately plaster on that fake smile I know so well. "Yeah, I'm fine." The façade was back on. I swiftly change the subject and inquire, "Do you plan on following me to my store like that?"

Missy looks at herself in horror, embarrassed that she is still without clothes in my car. "Yeah, I think I should change."

"I agree," I pause and then grin, "Oh, and also, I'd definitely go with a leopard-print bra. The soft pink one screams 'Virgin.'"

She stares at me as if I've mumbled something in Latin before nodding yes. Boy, she probably thinks I'm bipolar or something.

---x---

I let a stray tear trickle down my cheek. Here I was, sitting in my store, during lunch break, completely reduced to tears over a few words. Pathetic, right? My façade finally cracks, making painfully clear all my insecurities.

So this is what they all thought of me…more importantly, this is what _he_ thought of me. He called me his pretty girl. He said that I'd change the world someday. In his book, he wrote I was brilliant, and beautiful, and brave—that I had grown more than anyone else he knows. God, I was stupid to believe him. When it all comes down to it, I was just a good fuck for him.

I was in half a mind to go yell the crap out of Lucas, until Julian comes in.

"There's my girl. Can I get a quickie in before your break ends? Or are you already forgetting how much fun we had last night in your bedroom?" Julian smirks that grin of his that should already be illegal by now.

"Why does everything have to be about sex with me?" I shout; I can't control myself. Everything's falling way too fast.

"Brooke, look at me. What's wrong?" his tone now serious.

"I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but, um…I met with Missy today, and she showed me the character notes for Brooke Davis," I harden my resolve, trying my best not to show how much I was breaking inside. "And I just can't believe what Lucas wrote…apparently to him, all I cared about was 'sex, sex, and sex.'" I mimic using air quotes. "I mean sure I wasn't expecting much. All I am is the footnote in his epic love story with Peyton. But this…indirectly, he just implied I was both a whore and a slut!"

I notice that Julian avoids my eyes. He turns away as if he's hiding something. "Julian?" I whimper.

"Brooke, Lucas didn't write that…I did," he mutters under his breath.

I am embarrassed to say that I felt some strange sort of relief wash up on me when I heard it wasn't Lucas. But then immediately, my anger channels its way to Julian. Julian—the guy who I thought had a chance of getting to know me—wrongly judged me based on the very little he knew of my past.

"Get out! Julian, didn't you read the book? I mean, you're the one who said you fell for the other girl in the book. Turns out, you don't even know the other girl. You just wanted to find a way into my bed. But what does it matter, I want you to leave!" I force the harsh words out.

Julian gives me one last guilty look—the kind a little boy gives his mother when he admits to scribbling on the kitchen walls. Then he walks out the door like the countless men before him in my life.

---x---

"Brooke, this afternoon was great! The customers love the new fall line," Millie beams at me.

"I guess that means you can call it a day," I return the smile excitedly. "Anyways, Mouth would really like you to be there for his first sports broadcast at the new station. Make sure you tell him that I'm taping him tonight!"

"Thank you so much, Brooke! But are you sure, you can handle everything in here? I mean I could stay for a few more minutes if you'd like."

"It's fine, Millie. I'll be okay, and if I'm not I know how to get to you."

"Brooke, you're the best!" exclaims Millicent as she packs up the last file of contacts into her purse.

"I know, I know, that's what they all tell me," I chuckle.

After the last busy crowd of clients left, the store looked empty. I sigh, finally able to take a quick breather. I decide to tidy up the place, rearrange the purses, and sort the folders, basically anything to distract myself from unwanted thoughts.

"Brooke, I'm sorry," pleads the newcomer.

I didn't even have to look up from what I was doing to recognize it was Julian. "I thought I told you to leave. You were pretty good at doing it earlier, now just repeat," I respond bitterly.

He reaches for my hand with a firm grip, as I try to brush him off to no avail, "I know I was wrong. Just hear me out, though." He grabs a piece of paper folded in his shirt pocket with his free hand. "Brooke Davis—gorgeous brunette with an amazing energy and smile. Funny. Intelligent. Kind-hearted. Strong-headed. Simple and complicated. Motherly. Childish. Tough. Sensitive. Beautiful. Way cooler than she was in high school." He lets go of my hand and then declares, "I'm going to make sure everyone knows that."

I was immensely touched by his kind gesture, but he also needed to understand. I smile coyly and reply, "But Julian, I'm not ashamed of my past. I was student council president and head caption of the cheerleaders. I started DW not I and Clothes over Bros in my apartment junior year. I had amazing friends, and I got to experience love first-hand. I'm not saying I didn't make mistakes, because I did. I made a lot of them, but then again, who doesn't?"

"I…um…" he's at a loss of words.

"I guess I do reward your effort in trying," I give him a small peck on the cheek, while he pulls me in for a tight embrace.

From the corner of my eyes, I catch that unmistakable icy blue gaze piercing into me, through the window.

Well, well, would you look at that… Somebody decided to finally make an appearance.

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**A/N:** Know who it is? How'd you guys like it? Please review, I love reading them.


	4. Speechless

**A/N: **I know guys, it's been a long time since I last updated. I'm sorry, I've just been really busy with school and track. Hopefully, I made it up with a longer update than my usual. This chapter is in Lucas's Point of View. I know things are starting off slow, but I need to build up all the relationships and the current storylines at the moment, before I can add my twists. And trust me, there will be a lot of them. There is Brucas interaction in this chapter, and not so much Peyton. However, it's not a lot of BL b/c I'm still going for the slow build-up. Anywhoo, I'ma shut up and ya'll read and review.

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**In His Eyes**:

For a writer, who masters in using words as part of his daily job, why do I feel like they have abandoned me, only to leave me speechless? It's moments like these where I feel pathetic to call myself a writer. There's so much I want to say, so much I _need_ to say, but the words have left me and instead, I just stand there dumbfounded.

Here she was, Brooke Davis in all her glory, a few footsteps and a door away. But, I can't make myself move an inch further. Our eyes lock for those few seconds, when I realized how much I really missed her. Seeing her again, I couldn't imagine why I lost touch with her in the first place…with everyone in general.

I was drowned in her hazel eyes, until I noticed how broken they looked, probably mirroring all the pain she has recently been through. They lack the shine which has always been a trademark of hers. I suddenly remember that her eyes echo the very same pain I see in Peyton's green eyes. And it hurts me to see both of them this way.

Brooke was the first to break eye contact, and I couldn't help, but feel a little disappointed. It was only then I recognized that Julian had his arms wrapped around her. _Julian? Brooke and Julian together? When the hell did this happen? _I don't know why, but god, I absolutely hated the idea of them together. It made me mad.

I know she's not mine anymore. I gave up that option a long time ago. Yet, the egotistical part of me wishes she still had some sort of feelings for me or even held on to the thought of me, though I know that's not likely. I want her to be happy, but not without me—am I self-centered in thinking that?

Sometimes, I wonder how me and Brooke ended so royally screwed up in the first place. The distance between us is purposely my fault. I'd like to think that I did it with the best of intentions. It would be less messy this way…a clean break. I knew it was too damn _hard_ to balance both Brooke and Peyton in my lives without neglecting one of them. So like always I made my choice with Peyton and stuck with it. Although, the _what ifs_ of my relationship with Brooke creep up in the back corners of my mind every once in a while.

I don't know why I'm even here anymore. All I wanted was to fix my wrecked friendships. I recall waking up this morning with the sudden inspiration to go see Brooke and start with her. Why? Because I thought she would be the easiest to talk to. I couldn't face Haley at all or bear to see the look of disappointment in Jamie's eyes or get ignored by Nathan as payback. For some strange reason, I thought Brooke would be more forgiving. Maybe, she didn't expect much from me since I've let her down a couple of times before, maybe she's used to it by now. I despised myself for even thinking that, but I knew it was true.

So here I am, feeling too guilty to even utter a word, or enter the door. I curse under my breath. I couldn't talk to her right now. There was no way. Then somehow, I'm able to pick up my feet and run in the opposite direction. Hopefully, this whole incident will seem like I was just taking a quick break from my jogging.

---x---

By the time I got back to work after my run, Julian and Reese were already there. Julian approached me and said, "Hey Lucas, where've you been? I've been meaning to get a word with you."

I icily reply, "I've just been busy with a few deadlines. I haven't been taking too many breaks _unlike_ some people however," directing the last part of my comment to Julian.

"Jesus, Lucas what's with you today?" Julian asks. "And here I thought we were becoming best friends," he sneers sarcastically.

First off, I hated him for being with Peyton, and now I find myself in the same situation except this time I hate him for being with Brooke. Was it jealousy? I don't know. What ticks me off the most is that I know he will probably do a better job of taking care of Brooke than I ever could.

"Okay, I know you've got some thing against me, but don't worry. We won't be working with each other for much longer," Julian softens his tone.

"What do you mean?" I inquire inquisitively. Was Julian quitting? He couldn't. I mean despite what I had said previously, he is doing a good job as producer of the movie, caring for it almost as much as I do. He rubs me off the wrong way, but that's only because the main thing that bothered me about him was his history with Peyton and his relationship with Brooke.

"Well, I recently got off a phone call with my dad. He just got fired."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How's he taking it?" I ask slightly unsure what this has to do with us not working together.

"No, he's fine. He's taking it with a huge cash settlement and an overall production deal," Julian states matter-of-factly.

"Oh, so he's good," I smile lightly.

"I don't think you understand, Lucas. When a studio head is terminated, most of the projects that aren't shooting yet go into turn around," he responds seriously.

"What's turn around?" I question, scared to find out the answer he's about to give me.

"It means they put projects on hold. The movies that have not yet shooted any scenes are paused due to the lack of financial backing."

"Don't lie to the kid," Reese interjects, "Look, Lucas, you just lost your $300,000 production bonus. Your movie's dead, gone, it's over," he declares.

I was in complete shock. "This can't—this can't be happening," I grumble.

"No, no, it's okay. There were other executives who loved the concept of our movie. All I have to do is make the right phone calls. It can still happen," Julian answers with as much conviction as he can—almost as if he was trying to prove to himself that the movie could be saved.

"Try as much as you want. Go ahead, waste your time. We all know this is deal's dead," Reese states and then laughs, "Wow, I got paid to do nothing. I don't know about you two, but I'm going to fucking celebrate. It was real nice working with you guys," he winks before heading out.

"Wait, Reese, hold up. Aren't you even the littlest bit sad about this?" I ask, put off by his attitude.

"Nah, man. I am going to hook up with my _own_ Peyton over there, and then I plan on getting drunk with some high quality wine, while you two mope in misery, drinking away some cheap beer," he grins, "I understand though, if you had ran one measly scene through the camera, you'd be sitting on a fat pile of money right now."

"You don't get it. It's not about the money. We worked so hard on everything. Casting was officially complete, and we were so close," I sigh, knowing that he would never really understand what this movie meant to me.

"Oh, right, right… I'm no writer, but let me take a shot at this. Hmm…We found a story worth telling. We got the script just right. We got the precise crew, and the perfect cast. And we were oh so close to being able to make something that would actually affect somebody," he pauses, "But you know what, sometimes the beauty is in the attempt. We gave it our all, and it didn't work out. Sometimes, you just got to accept that." Those were his final words before walking away.

"You know in the twisted way of his, Reese is actually right. I mean remember you weren't so keen on having this movie made in the first place. You're the one who said, 'Some things get lost in translation,'" Julian reminds me.

"I was at first. But when we got this far, somewhere along the way, I changed my mind, and realized how much making this movie meant to me. I put my whole heart and effort into it. Now, I feel like I'm losing everything on this," I claim as Julian listens to me intently.

"Well, look at this way you lost a movie and a huge production bonus. I lost a movie, a huge production bonus, and two amazing girls."

"Speaking of which, have you told Brooke yet?" I mention casually.

"What about Brooke?" he eyes me suspiciously.

"I mean she is the costume designer after all," I cover up quickly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to tell her soon. Actually, I'm gonna have to tell a _lot_ of people they lost their jobs. I'm really sorry about all of this, Lucas."

"Me too."

"You really have an amazing story; the big screen just wasn't ready for it," he remarks. Julian offers his hand to me, and we shake on it sadly.

"It was nice working with you," I tell him, "Good luck with Brooke."

"Thanks," he replies gently, "Now I've got to go confirm the cancellation to the others."

"I'll go with you," I follow him out.

The end was here, and instead of being met with applause on the success of our movie, we were met with a blow of misfortune.

The way one thing can disappear from you in the blink of an eye—it's frightening; leaving me speechless for the second time today.

---x---

I don't know what made me come back here, but for some reason I really needed to see Brooke.

It was now or never.

The first step is always the hardest; after that, it's much easier I try to convince myself. I take a deep breath in, and finally push through the door.

She was sitting in her desk with her eyes glued to the huge piles of paper work stacked in front of her. Her desk looks like a junkyard consisting of all her files, folders, photos, and designs—all of which are in a complete disarray. Or as I remember her calling it back in high school, 'an organized mess.'

"If you're a paying customer, it's closing time, sorry. Check back in tomorrow the same timings," she says in a professional tone without even doing so much as looking up.

I have trouble persuading myself not to leave the boutique this very instant, but instead I manage to get the words out my throat, "I'm not buying."

I can sense Brooke immediately tense up which I find odd. "Then you have more reason to leave. I have a gun with me, and I'm not afraid to call the cops," she answers menacingly. I could swear I saw her jaw twitch for a second, as she shuffles through her coat pocket desperately in search of something, revealing the panic written clearly on her face.

Scared to see her react like this, I quickly run over to her desk and give her a quick shake on the shoulders. "Brooke, stop!" I yell, my voice raw with anxiety.

"Lucas?" she whispers.

This is the first time I've seen her in months, and still I can tell she looks so much more tired than usual. That fresh face she came with into my bedroom one morning to announce her permanent stay in Tree Hill was long gone. Her once chocolate locks of hair almost seemed black, and I could notice the bags forming under her eyes. Despite all that, I have to say she still looked good.

"Hi," I finally spit out.

She returns the hello rather pleasantly. The high tension in the room builds up to such an extent, set on bursting any moment—almost similar to those ticking bombs ready to explode. The awkward silence feels unbearable.

I suddenly forget everything I planned to say. I felt stupid coming here. What could I possibly tell her? That I had been feeling lost, and I realized maybe I need to start reconstructing my friendships with the people I care about? Would that work or would she just laugh in my face? How could I tell her that I am making an effort of reconciling, and she was making it so much harder than it had to be? How do I tell her that I had no guts in going to Nathan, Haley, or Jamie?

Brooke and I were nothing more than estranged exes. _Estranged_. I hate the way the word rolls off my tongue, leaving a dirty after-taste.

"Excuse me?" A look of confusion masks her face, but immediately she moves on to comment, "Hey look, I'm sorry about the movie. I heard production was cancelled from Julian," she tries her best in breaking up the awkwardness of the entire situation.

Did it bother me that Julian told her this before I could? Yeah, it did; but for now, I let it slide.

I merely nod my head in response, while mentally smacking myself for not being able to make small conversation with her.

I expect another awkward silence, but Brooke goes on to ask, "Did you tell Peyton yet?"

"Honestly, I didn't get the time. She's been really busy with…stuff."

"Aren't we all?" she sighs.

"So…um…are you and Julian together now?" I ask tentatively.

"Oh yeah, you saw us this morning. Why'd you run off in such a hurry, anyways?" she questions.

"Well, I noticed that I was late for work, and I had to run back if I was going to make it," I reply, when instantly I understand that this was a ploy for changing the subject. "You still haven't answered my question, nice try though," I smirk.

She laughs at which I feel a sense of relaxation pour upon me. The tension releases. "Damn it, I thought you'd fall for it! But yeah, me and him have been going out for three weeks."

_Three weeks_, I think, _that long already?_

Instead of replying to the latter part of her statement, I chuckle, "I'm just too good for you, Brooke."

"Cocky much, aren't we today Scott?" she kinks her eyebrow towards me.

I can't tell anyone, how much I've missed seeing that. "Nah, I'm stating the truth here."

"Well, I'll have you know I could outsmart you any day, you name it," she winks playfully at me.

I roll my eyes at her, "You wish. But we'll determine that another time, I actually have to leave right now." I also make a mental note to ask about that gun of hers later.

"Okay, sure," is all she replies.

As I step out of the door, I hear her call out, "It's been good seeing ya."

"Call me anytime," I request earnestly.

"Count on it."

I couldn't suppress the smile slowly forming on my face, as I walk out the door.

Could it really have been that easy?

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**A/N:** I'll tell you right now, though it seems like BL is finally on good terms, it's not true. It _appears _that way, but Brooke isn't stupid in letting him get into her life so easily. Lucas is wrong, it's really not that easy. Heads up on next chapter will be Peyton's POV with an LP fight coming up & BP. Please review, I live on them.


	5. Misery Loves Its Company

**A/N: **Okay, I know you guys definately hate me. I haven't updated in a month, I'm sorry. School was really becoming a huge burden, especially with finals coming up. Also, the Season 6 finale totally bummed me out. I cannot believe they ended things like that. I'll save you guys from my rant, however. I also admit I was currently suffering from writer's block, but now I know how I want the next three chapters to come out. Anywho, I am officially out of school and ready to focus on finishing this story. This is one of the longest chapters yet, and it deals with Leyton fighting and Breyton. The LP fight wasn't too bad to write actually. Unfortunately no Brucas this chapter, but I'm still really pleased with it, so bear with me.

This chapter is in Peyton's POV. The other two chapters will correspond with this chapter, for it too all make sense. I'll explain it some more in the next chapter about the timing of some of the events. I hope you enjoy this chapter, because I absolutely love reading your reviews. Oh by the way, I'm bad with the medical stuff, so it won't be completely accurate.

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**In the Fiancé's Eyes**:

Clearly, believing in happy endings is only meant for the naïve. The fairytales, the happily ever afters, it's all something Disney concocted up to make us gullible enough to base reality off it.

God, it's fucking incredible. Misery loves knocking on my door. How could anyone want this for a girl with such broken dreams? Is it fate? Karma coming back to bite my ass? Or is it just plain bad luck? Or maybe, it's the fact that happiness for me never existed in the first place.

Okay, I might be overdoing the dramatics a bit here. Blame it on the hormones and the prenatal depression.

But really, I admit that what I said earlier would be a complete lie because despite it all, I've been blessed with so many wonderful moments: The second time Lucas proposed to me. The day I found out I was pregnant with his child. The little time I got to share with Ellie. The instant Brooke and I reconciled after the Psycho Derek attack. And the list goes on.

I'm grateful for it all. I really am. Yet sometimes, I just can't help wonder why with every good thing in my life comes a tragedy packaged alongside with a neat little bow on top. Seriously, now? My sarcasm is overkill today.

"_Ms. Sawyer, you have a rare pregnancy complication called placental abruption. Yours is a severe case that might end up hurting the baby as well as yourself. Honestly I have to tell you, the odds are not in your favor."_

I guess I have such high expectations from life; that I make myself susceptible for disappointment.

There once was a time when I didn't want a baby at all. Partly because I knew I couldn't handle it. I wasn't prepared, and I didn't want to take on the countless responsibilities. But mainly, I was afraid I couldn't give my baby what it needed. It's funny how much has changed since then.

Now, I want this baby so bad. I can feel it. It's already a part of me. And I want to be able to cherish it and love it forever. There are no words in this world to describe the intensity of love you feel for your child. I want my baby to smile and laugh and grow.

Somewhere along the line, I've discovered the strength within me I didn't even know I had. You could say it's the beauty of hope. I believe with all my heart that this baby will make it out alive for the world to see.

I'm going to be a mom. Scratch that. I am a mom. It's time I beat the odds once and for all. Nothing else matters. All I got to do now is tell Lucas.

---x---

"Lucas, I'm gonna say this once, and I need you to hear me out. So please don't interrupt," I take a deep breath and continue, "For a while, I've been having some terrible abdominal cramps, and well I shook it off, thinking that all pregnancies were like this. But then, the bleeding started and I knew something was wrong…are you with me, still?"

He only nods his head, and I take that as my cue to go on ahead.

"So, I went to the doctor to get some tests done, but my results confirmed that I had a severe case of placental abruption."

Lucas gives me a weird look, and I can tell he's not familiar with pregnancy complications.

"Basically, that means my baby and I are at risk. I just didn't tell you before because well I was scared and I didn't want to burden you with my problems," I finish quickly. A deathly silence fills the room. "Please say something," I plead.

"I can't believe this," he replies weakly. "How could this have happened?" his voice sounds small and broken.

The truth is I don't know. "I'm sorry," I sniffle.

Lucas refuses to meet my eyes and walks straight pass me.

It's not supposed to be like this.

I finally break.

---x---

Lucas comes out of his room and enters the kitchen. It's been an hour since our terrible conversation, and I really didn't know what to tell him anymore. Luckily he spoke first, "I'll be there for you, Peyt, when you give up the baby. It'll make us stronger in the end."

"Uhh…what are you talking about Luke?"

"You can't seriously be thinking about going through with this pregnancy," he remarks.

"I can't believe you're assuming that I'd give the baby up," I retort.

"Look baby, I was doing some research a little while ago, and this is serious. I—I mean… both you and the baby could….you know, die," his voice cracked near the end.

"Well, _baby_, let me tell you something. I don't want a damn abortion. I can't even thinking about killing my child. How could you? I thought you wanted to be a father," I cry.

"It's not an abortion!" he protests.

"Call it by its real name, Lucas. You want me to get an abortion," I sneer.

"Fine, I want you to get an abortion. There I said it, happy?" he yells.

"Not really," I mutter under my breath.

"God, Peyton how could you be so selfish? You for one should know how it's like to grow up without a mother. Okay? I can't believe you'd want that for you own child. Do you want to have your baby live with all the guilt knowing that he or she was the reason their mother died? Would you want that?" he argues.

"Lucas, look I survived in spite of it all, didn't I? And besides, our baby will have you, Brooke, Haley and Nathan, even Mouth, and Skills to be there," I reply.

"Peyt, you had so many people too, and yet you know that _still_ doesn't take the place of a mother. And didn't you forget, we hardly even talk to them anymore," Lucas responds bitterly.

"It doesn't matter they'd still be there," I say trying to convince myself, "Why won't you just understand, you can't save me from this. This time I have to save myself."

"Why won't you let me try at least?" he asks with desperation noticeably audible in his voice.

"This is not your decision to make. It's my body, and my right to choose what I want," I state firmly.

Lucas pauses, before professing, "What about me then, Peyton? Don't I get a voice? I can't loose you."

I frown at him. How could he even say something like that—as if I wanted to die? "That was a cheap shot. Don't make me feel guilty for choosing my baby's life."

"What did you expect? I don't understand why you even came to tell me about this. Since you so clearly pointed out that you have already made your decision without even consulting me," he counters back.

"What I expected? I expected my fiancé to assure me that it would all be okay. To tell me that he loves me and we'll get through this all," I tell him softly.

Lucas's eyes look cold and distant. "So you're saying, you wanted me to lie to you. I'm sorry Peyton, but I can't do that. It doesn't work like that."

"You're making this so much harder than it has to be, Lucas," I implore.

"No, you just refuse to see my side of things. I care for you Peyton, why can't you see that?" he asks defiantly.

"That's because your side of things is wrong!" I yell. "I can't do this right now."

"Do what?" he questions.

I merely reply, "It hurts too damn much being near you."

He stares at me curiously, "Are you…uhh… trying to break up with me?"

I shout, "No, of course not! You really need to stop jumping to conclusions."

"Well, when my fiancé says it's too hard to be with me, aren't I supposed to think that she doesn't want to be with me anymore?" Lucas snaps.

I soften my tone, "No, I just need to clear my head. Get away from it all, relax."

"And you can't do that here?" he demands, rather than asks.

"Well, it's hard when you're yelling at me," my sarcasm shoots back up.

"Peyton, let me take this all back. Please, let's start over," he begs.

I try to remain strong for the both of us. "This will be good for you, too. You can do your thinking and I'll do mine. And then hopefully, we'll be back with each other before you know it." I give him a small smile.

That doesn't seem to ease his worries, because then he asks "Where are you gonna go?"

"I don't know, maybe Brooke's, if she'll have me," I hope.

"No offense, but do you really think she'd be okay with that after months of ignoring her," he remarks.

I glared at him, "That was low."

"I'm just telling you the truth," he mutters.

"Well thanks Lucas. Umm…I think I should go then."

He inquires, "Wait, what about your stuff?"

"Lucas, I'm not going away for that long," I chuckle even though it's highly inappropriate for this conversation.

All he says is "Peyton, don't run."

"I have to," I walk out the door without looking back. I was hoping he'd ask me to stay. But he didn't. I was hoping he'd tell me he loves me. But he doesn't.

Letting the tears come pouring down, I enter my Comet.

I turned on my cell phone and began punching in those digits I knew by heart. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. My palms grew moist and sweaty. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This is not what I wanted. I wanted to have my best friend by my side and Lucas protecting me and my little baby. But, life has a way of screwing you over.

What could I possibly tell Brooke? There aren't any words to describe what I'm feeling. All I know is that I've got to see her. Have her yell at me, slap me, anything to just make me feel some other emotion than right now.

I send the call, listening to the persistent ringing. I was beyond scared now. Maybe, it wasn't such a great idea calling anyways. You can't mend distant friendships over the phone. Those friendships that are so broken, you don't even know what the other one is up to. Unfortunately, however, it was too late.

"_Hello, this is Brooke Davis speaking,"_ I heard her professional tone.

"Brooke?" I whisper.

"_Peyton?"_ she asks hesitantly.

I don't know how to begin, but the words rush out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Look Brooke, I know you must hate me right now. And honestly, I don't blame you for that. It's just that….I'm so lost. Everything's crashing down on me, and I don't know what to do. God, I know it's so selfish of me to come to you when I haven't been there for you myself. But, I really need you Brooke. I got into this stupid fight with Lucas and it didn't end right. I've got nowhere to stay—I just want to—Brooke, I'm a mess. Please help me," I sob into the phone.

It kills me that Brooke doesn't reply for what seems like an eternity. I try my best to recover myself, but I don't think I can until I hear Brooke's reply.

"_Come over."_

And with that, she hung up.

---x---

I knock on the door, worried about the entire awkwardness of the whole situation. What were we even going to talk about? Interrupting me from my thoughts, Brooke opens the door and leads me inside.

"Brooke?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"All of it." I knew I had to get that off my chest. I had to express my gratitude for Brooke being here because if she wasn't I don't know what I'd do.

"Well, let's get our minds off the serious stuff," she perks up in Brooke-Davis-like-fashion. "I've brought our boys, Ben and Jerry. Cherry Garcia for you and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough for me."

She swiftly returns from the kitchen with two spoons and pints of ice-cream. She sits right next to me on the leather sofa in her living room.

While diving her spoon into the cookie dough, she says, "You know, these guys are so much better than men. I just love how they satisfy us completely—never cheating us out, and if we're bored with one, well hey, they've got a million other flavors to please us with," her eyes glint in delight.

Then she adds, "Plus they can never get you pregnant."

"Well, I mean, yeah. They can't technically get you pregnant, but they can make you _look_ pregnant. With all those extra calories, we'd get fat enough to have baby bumps, but without the baby," I reply as I take another spoonful of some Cherry Garcia.

"Stop it! You're making me feel guilty," Brooke whines, while I laugh in response.

We finished up our ice-cream purge an hour later, but Brooke still hadn't asked me 'What's wrong' yet or my reasons for coming here. And god, am I grateful for that because really, I don't think I could have answered her. Brooke's smart in knowing when to back off, and when to start asking questions. Even though, we've been pretty distant the past year or so, I'm impressed that she knows me so well.

"I'm full," I declare out loud.

"You know what we need to do?"

"What?" I wonder what Brooke Davis has got up her sleeve.

"Get drunk. Get really, really, _good_ drunk," she announces.

"But, Brooke I'm pregnant!" I exclaim incredulously. I mean she couldn't have forgotten, now could she?

"Details, details," she brushes of airily, "Come on, let's go."

"Oh, what the hell," I mutter realizing that she needs this way more than she's letting on. There was something off about her—as if she was trying to distract herself as much as possible. The question is, distract herself from what?

I open my mouth to ask, but think better of it. It's really not my place anymore to invade into her personal life. Some time ago, it was, but not anymore.

---x---

I now found myself sitting next to Brooke at Tric—the two of us dressed in her fabulous Clothes over Bro originals. I tried to convince Brooke out of it, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. I have to admit, though, I do make one sexy pregnant mama.

Owen's the one who then shakes me abruptly from my egotistical thoughts. "Excuse me ladies, but that guy over there is sending you these drinks," he mumbles gruffly more towards me than Brooke.

Both Brooke and I check out the guy, and there he was winking back at us. Brooke puts on a fake smile and responds, "Tell him we're not interested tonight." And with that, we turn away from Owen, the drinks, and the guy.

I do my best to engage in small talk with Brooke, when Owen pops up once more. "Um…these drinks are from those two," he points out. I catch the way Owen never looks at Brooke directly, but steals nervous glances every once in a while. I decide I'll ask her about it.

"Boy, we must be looking hotter than I thought," Brooke smirks. "Send them back, we don't want any."

I laugh, "Brooke, just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean that you can't drink."

"I know, but it's terribly rude—me drinking in your face, seriously. What kind of person does that?" she proclaims.

I was going to tell her, then what's the point of going to a bar, but instead I seize this opportunity to ask about her and Owen. I whisper, "By the way, what's the deal with you and Owen?"

"What do you mean?" she replies innocently.

"Oh come on, don't make excu—," I start to say, until Owen shows up again. Man, that boy has uncanny timing.

This time he wore a clearly annoyed expression on his face, "This guy wants to buy you some drinks. Say yes already, I'm extremely tired of this," Owen grunts.

Brooke and I turn around to see the guy coming over to approach us. "9 outta 10, definitely," we both grin simultaneously.

"You know, I have a fiancé. I shouldn't be rating guys like this," I realize.

"A fiancé you are currently not on speaking terms with, may I remind you. Besides, I'm currently single," Brooke giggles playfully.

"Single? But, what about Juli—," I ask before interrupted by a dark strikingly handsome man walking up to us.

"Hello, dears. I'm Brian from London on a small trip here. What are two lovely girls like you doing tonight?" the man introduces himself in a thick British accent. What the hell was an English man doing here? I had no idea the people of London even know about Tree Hill, much less visited here.

"Too late, I'm engaged," I tell him, waving my left hand in front of him.

"Aw, that's too bad then. Well, what about you pretty lady," Brian smiles directly at Brooke. "Would you like some company tonight?" he said, eying her suggestively.

"Let's get this straight, I'm not interested Mr. Sexy-British-Accent. So why don't you go off, drink some tea, and then think about the next time you'll hit on a girl. And when you do, make sure you're not thinking of me because even in your dreams, I'm not interested," Brooke spits out.

"Well, that was definitely a first. I'll have you know I've never been refused by anyone, especially in bed," he says with a smug look on his face.

"I thought an English man is supposed to be a gentleman," I chime in.

He casually chuckles, "Doesn't mean we can't have a dirty side. I will definitely being seeing you two again."

Brooke just shows him a look of pure disgust. As soon as she leaves, she hisses, "Ugh, I cannot believe him. Did you see the wedding band he was wearing on his hand?"

"Are you serious? I can't believe I didn't notice," I exclaim shocked. "So that's why you turned him down."

"He was good-looking alright—but, cheaters are definitely unattractive," she stresses.

---x---

I watch Brooke, as she slouches over. I myself am completely exhausted, while Brooke looks depressed. Maybe she was realizing that coming to a bar without alcoholic drinks, doesn't do you much good. I guess she was getting tired of constantly ordering club sodas and virgin margaritas.

"We should head out," I pronounce. "It's getting late."

Brooke turns around to face me. "Where did we go wrong?" she whimpers.

I don't know if she's talking about us, her own problems, Victoria, or me and Lucas, but whichever one it is I still wouldn't know the answer.

A tear escapes from my eyes, as I pull Brooke in for a hug. All of a sudden, the two of us release all the emotions from the past few days building up inside, letting our tears soak through each other's clothes. Our mascara is running, and our make-up is smudging, but right now we don't care. We console each other, while we immerse ourselves into our own worries. I don't know why she's crying, and she probably doesn't know why I am either. We could talk about our problems tomorrow, but for now all we need to offer is each other's comfort. In this moment, the two of us cry—completely broken inside—desperately holding on to each other—hoping the pain will go away.

Misery just loves its company.

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**A/N: **What'd you guys think? Like it, hate it, love it? Let me know, I live on all of your reviews. Okay so preview for next chapter: It will be in Brooke's perspective and we've got Brulian coming up, with more Breyton, and a little bit of Brucas. (Don't worry Lucas's perspective--which is two chapters from now--will have a whole lot of Brucas/Baley/Laley.)


	6. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

I'm sorry to disappoint all who thought that this would be an update on the story. I know I've left all my reviewers hanging for two months, and I feel absolutely terrible about it. It's just that I've been so busy lately with my grandparents coming over, and now I have to catch up on all my summer homework (which I conveniently haven't started yet), plus the volunteering I've been doing… and on top of all that, I've been really lazy. I didn't even feel like writing this author's note to be honest, but I know my readers deserve better.

I will try to post two new chapters by the end of August hopefully, and then maybe go on hiatus for this story. I really don't want to give up, but truth be told I have lost much of my inspiration for this story. I probably will be coming back to it sooner, it depends on all you guys and whether or not you want to see this story continued. So let me know about that…

I also had another idea of a Brucas story on my mind that goes along about their adventures in Vegas based on Katy Perry's song "Waking up in Vegas." I know there's probably a bunch of stories based on that idea, but I've never read one that focuses on Brooke and Lucas in Vegas, most writers focus on what happens after they come back. I just know Brooke & Lucas in Vegas means very sexy fun. Gambling, drinking, sex, getting married, and all that good stuff. It'll probably be like 5-10 chapter story, if I do decide to write it and again only if you're interested in it. More fun and less ansty/serious than "Stay Awake With Me" is supposed to be. But give me your opinions about the idea.

I'll probably be very busy the next week or so with real life unfortunately so I won't be on the computer much and I doubt I'd be able to update that soon. I'll try to get in touch with everything after that, and hopefully I can go on the computer more frequently.

Again, my sincerest apologies. I will get those two chapters to you guys though before this month ends(;

P.S. Shab, I still need to read your story and leave a review. I'm very excited to do so. But, I will do it once after next week. Also if any of my other reviewers are interested my friend, Shab, has posted a story on called the "City of Blinding Lights." It's not BL-related or even OTH-related, but it's a great romance story filled with love triangles and I think many of you will really like it. The link to the story if youre wondering will be on my profile.

Last but not least, I know many of you have probably abandoned this story having I not updated in quite a while. But to all of you anyways, thank you so much for your reviews. Your reviews are the only reason why I'm considering carrying on my story anyways. Otherwise I too would probably have left it. But re-reading all your reviews does give me hope. So I will try my best. Love you all very much.

-Mariam


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